


The Color of Nothing

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Poetry, Time Turner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 21:16:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5943337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A distraught Remus imagines speaking to Sirius.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Color of Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

I used to think that there was nothing you could do to make me hate you.

I loved you- you were my heart, my soul, my entire being.

What we had was enough to eclipse the very sun and moon

You, my bright star, outshone all.

But our future was shattered

And I want to hate you so badly.

And everything I used to think, used to know

Is all for naught. I don't know if I can hate you.

I don't think I can feel anything.

That is, except the incredible feeling of nothing

That lingers inside me. Like something critical to my life

Was torn from my soul- and nothing will be able to heal it.

I wish I could characterize it. It feels blank.

No color, no feeling, nothing palpable.

Nothing. I feel nothing.

I cannot bring myself to hate you.

I cannot bring myself to remember you well.

I cannot bring myself to forget.

I feel nothing. A deep, penetrating nothing-

Which is probably what you feel as well.

That is, if you haven't gone mad in There.

So now I can say we have nothing in common.

Funny, I feel no satisfaction from that.

In fact, I feel nothing.

But I know now that the color of nothing

Is Black.


End file.
